


Trauma

by Anonymous_Introvert78



Series: Requests [6]
Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Airports, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety Disorder, Chae Hyungwon-centric, Here we go, Hospitals, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, LET'S GET IT, Mental Health Issues, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Hyungs, Protective Son Hyunwoo | Shownu, Sad Chae Hyungwon, Sasaeng Fan(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:42:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21895327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anonymous_Introvert78/pseuds/Anonymous_Introvert78
Summary: "You don't need to have been in a warzone to be traumatised. You just need to have been scared. So scared that your mind didn't know how to cope and so it shut down to protect itself. Nobody pointed a gun at you, you weren't in a car wreck but that doesn't make your trauma any less real than the people who were."~~~Requested by MinYun~~~
Relationships: Chae Hyungwon/Everyone, Chae Hyungwon/Im Changkyun | I.M, Chae Hyungwon/Lee Hoseok | Wonho, Chae Hyungwon/Lee Jooheon, Chae Hyungwon/Lee Minhyuk, Chae Hyungwon/Son Hyunwoo | Shownu, Chae Hyungwon/Yoo Kihyun
Series: Requests [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2010541
Comments: 59
Kudos: 322





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MinYun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MinYun/gifts).



> Thank you, MinYun, for this request! I hope I managed to write what you were looking for :)

When he was twelve, he decided he wanted to be an idol. He wanted the limelight, he wanted the adoration but, more than any of that, he wanted to do something that he loved. He wanted to dance, wanted to sing and perform with a group of people he trusted above all else.

He used to lie in bed at night, watching videos of Inkigayo and Mnet performances on YouTube and wishing that he could be the one to stand underneath those stage lights and hear a thousand people scream his name.

That was the life he asked for. That was the life he thought he’d accomplished.

How different that fantasy was from the harsh biting reality that came crashing down on him and his friends the moment they stepped through the airport doors, crossing that invisible line between concrete safety and lethal linoleum.

Some part of Hyungwon had known that something was going to go wrong as soon as he saw the ocean of flashing cameras, rippling banners and thrashing arms waiting for them on the other side of the road.

He didn’t want to go in there. He didn’t want to face that mindless throng of desperate obsessives who he preached love to and yet feared all at the same time. He didn’t want to push them, watch them fall while he was protected and they weren’t.

He didn’t want to feel that crushing sense of claustrophobia as fingers scrabbled for purchase on his hair or clothes and bodies shunted him left and right. He didn’t want to fear for his life like he had on far too many occasions before.

“You ready?” one of their managers asked the six of them as they huddled against the cold on the side of the road. “Just keep moving forward. The security will keep you safe. Let’s go.”

Hyunwoo went first. He always did. It was his way of taking the brunt of the blow, his way of protecting his members from the unintentional assault that threatened their wellbeing by ploughing through the fleshy jungle and clearing a path for them to follow.

The others trailed behind, each of them with their heads down and their shoulders hunched and their masks pulled up as high as they would go in a futile attempt to protect their skin from the lightning flashes and groping fingernails.

Hyungwon went last, trailing at the back of the procession with his hands stuffed into his pockets and trying not to think about how empty their ranks felt without their eldest, biggest and strongest.

He missed him. He missed him more than words could express.

But before he could miss him any more – if that was even possible – he had a far more pressing issue on his hands. Bodies pressing, hands pressing, faces pressing, walls pressing in, cutting off his air supply and leaving him with virtually no room to breathe.

Security surrounded him, their muscular arms trying to section him off from the so-called fans who thrust their phones in his face and reached out to dig their talons into his clothes, but they would never be able to fight off a crushing tidal wave this size.

He stumbled, his foot catching on somebody else’s, and the grip that fastened on his elbow only just kept him from falling. His arms came up to shield his head, hands clamping down over his ears to save them the trauma of hearing his name being screeched like a vulture.

He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t so much as raise his head to look where he was going because he knew he was going to see his friends being battered and buffered about like sparrows in the wind.

He couldn’t lash out and defend himself because his every move was being recorded and the internet would attack him the moment his actions were broadcasted.

He was completely helpless and too terrified to do anything more than stagger forwards in the desperate hope that, any minute now, he would break out of this warzone and be safe.

Somebody yelped. Somebody male. Hyungwon’s head snapped up instinctively as he recognised the owner of that cry and he caught the briefest glimpse of Changkyun’s hunched figure before his maknae dropped to the floor like a stone.

Maybe he tripped. Maybe he fainted. Hyungwon never got the chance to find out. He never got the chance to even reach for his little brother in an attempt to help him up before his entire world flipped upside down.

Spurred on by the sight of their precious oppa hitting the ground, the crowd gushed forwards with a collective scream of protest and “concern” and Hyungwon was knocked flying.

Somebody collided with his shoulder and he went down hard, throwing out a hand to break his fall and letting out an unheard cry of pain when the shock of the impact ricocheted up his arm. His fingers started to tingle almost immediately and the agony had tears burning the backs of his eyes even before a stampede of heavy boots trampled over the injured limb.

He tried to get up but a knee struck the side of his head, sending him slamming into the airport floor as lights burst and bobbed in front of him. His arm was crushed beneath his body and he could have sworn he heard and felt a snap.

Eyes streaming, vision blurred, heart thumping against the underside of his ribcage and panic flaring, he wondered if this was how he was going to die: crushed to death beneath the weight of the people who called themselves his fans.

This wasn’t the life he’d wanted and this wasn’t how he’d imagined it ending.

All sense of reality dissipated to be replaced by a vicious and borderline feral determination to survive. To make it out of this and be able to live another day. To not die without being able to reaffirm the reason why he loved his job.

He forced his head up, arms still shielding his skull from any more potential threats, and his pure desperation allowed him to instantly hone in on what looked like his one and only escape route.

Visible through the sea of legs was the bathroom door. The Men’s bathroom. Barred and inaccessible to the vast majority of his assailants. He could lock himself in a stall and wait until it was safe to call for help.

Hands clenched into fists so tight that his fingernails dug into the skin of his palms, he started crawling. One arm in front of the other, scrabbling for purchase against the floor as he dragged himself towards his safe haven.

The crowd was thinning, probably as they flocked towards Changkyun and the rest of the members without the slightest inclination of who was frantically trying to battle his way through to freedom.

Hyungwon wished he could go back for them. He wished he could check his youngest for injuries and assure Hyunwoo that there was nothing he could have done to protect them and ask Kihyun if his only-recently healed ribs were okay.

But the only thing he could do for them now was pray that the security guards were doing their jobs even though he himself had been abandoned and left for dead amid the chaos.

He missed Hoseok.

Getting his feet underneath him was singularly one of the hardest things he’d ever had to do but once the soles of his shoes met the floor, adrenaline helped him push upwards with his legs and then – finally – he was running.

His steps were uncoordinated and his knees were shaky and he stumbled so violently that he almost faceplanted straight back onto the ground but then his palm met the bathroom door and he tumbled over the threshold with a gasp of relief.

There was an elderly man at the sink, splashing water over his wrinkly hands, and Hyungwon’s breathless entrance almost gave him a heart attack but the boy didn’t care. He needed to feel safe and secure and a locked stall was the only way he could attain both those things at once.

His hands were trembling so badly that he almost couldn’t draw the bolt across but when the snap of metal meeting metal echoed off the tiled walls, all his energy gave out and he hit the floor with a heavy thump.

Safe. Finally. Safe. Alone. In solitude. No more feet stamping on his fingers, no more knees slamming into his head, no more pain, no more fear. Safe. At last.

He didn’t realise how violently he’d been hyperventilating but now that the survival instincts were dying down, he could feel the pain starting to kick in. His head was throbbing, his wrist was agony and his chest felt like it was being squeezed in an iron press.

He missed Hoseok.

The wall of the stall was cool and stable against his back as he slumped against it, closing his eyes and trying to breathe through the receding panic before he could succumb to his dizziness and pass out in an airport bathroom.

His phone. He needed to call somebody. Hyunwoo. Minhyuk. His manager. He needed somebody to come and get him because he was almost certain that his wrist was broken and he was in pain and he couldn’t calm himself down and all he wanted right now was a hug.

The first tear splashed onto his thigh as he groped about in his pockets until he found his phone and the second, third, fourth and fifth came rolling down as soon as he registered the spiderweb shatter pattern shooting over the screen.

“Help,” he whispered under his breath, squeezing the power button as hard as he could. “Help me … please …”

He couldn’t calm down. He knew how to deal with a panic attack but none of the techniques he’d been taught were working and he couldn’t calm down. He needed to calm down. But he couldn’t calm down.

And he missed Hoseok.

\-------------------

Hyunwoo was literally manhandled into the VIP airport lounge by the security staff as they tried to keep him away from sharpened fingernails and screeching faces. It was only when he felt expensive carpet beneath his feet that he felt safe enough to release the grip he’d had on Jooheon’s wrist.

“Are you okay?” he shot, turning to face his little brother and checking him for any sign of injury. “Jooheon, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” came the slightly breathless reply as Jooheon pulled off his cap and raked a trembling hand through his hair. “Holy shit … It’s never been that bad before.”

He was right. Not once since their debut had he seen a mob like that. Maybe it was something to do with it being their first airport appearance since Hoseok was kicked out but every single one of those girls seemed to be twice as feral as normal.

Glancing around, he took in the damage and bit back the self-hatred gnawing at his insides. He hadn’t managed to protect his eldest member and now he was barely able to keep the others alive when they needed him most.

Changkyun was massaging his knee, his nose scrunched up in a wince of pain as he tried to work out the knots that had formed when he’d gone tumbling in the middle of that mosh pit, and Kihyun was crouched beside Minhyuk, trying to help him control the bleeding from his nose.

His internal leader was already counting, ensuring he had eyes on all of his friends and that was when it hit him and he felt like his insides were being frozen into huge blocks of ice.

“Where’s Hyungwon?” he muttered, pivoting on his heel and scanning every inch of the room. “Where’s Hyungwon?”

Nobody heard him. They were all too busy trying to straighten their clothes and tend to their injured idols and he scanned every single face and posture, desperately searching for the one he needed.

But some part of him already knew he wasn’t there.

“Where’s Hyungwon?” he shouted, ripping off his mask so his words could sound as clear as crystal. “Where is he?”

What if he’d fallen like Changkyun but hadn’t managed to get back up? What if he’d been kicked in the head and knocked out? What if he’d been trampled to death out there? What if someone had used the chaos as an opportunity to snatch him?

He could feel his heartrate soaring and his breaths increasing to a dangerous level and the hand that appeared on his shoulder was thrown off before it even had a chance to find purchase.

The door was right in front of him and he completely forgot about what had, just seconds before, been standing on the other side as he stumbled forwards and curled his fingers around the handle, preparing to plunge back into that hell hole.

If Hyungwon was hurt then he would never be able to forgive himself for leaving him out there.

“Hey!”

Arms circled around his waist and chest, pulling him back and restraining him against a much broader body. He fought and twisted, trying to pry the grip away from him but whoever was holding him was clearly stronger.

“Let me go!” he yelled. “I need to find him!”

“Going back out there is going to make everything a million times worse!” came the voice in his ear that he only now could identify as his manager’s. “We’ve notified all the members of security and they’re looking for Hyungwon right now but you need to calm down and set an example as a leader!”

Hyunwoo stopped struggling, unshed tears of frustration sparkling in his eyes as his manager finally let go and allowed him to collapse onto the couch with his head in his hands.

He’d failed. He’d failed Hoseok and now he’d failed Hyungwon. He’d let them both go when he should have held on for dear life and now he didn’t know where either of them were.

“We’re going to miss the flight,” the manager announced to the room at large. “But I don’t think we would have made it anyway. We’ll wait for things out there to calm down and then, Changkyun, I want to take you to a hospital so we can get that knee looked at. Someone needs to call ahead and cancel our schedules in Japan for at least the next few days.”

Hyunwoo didn’t raise his head. He dug his fingernails into his scalp and screwed his eyes shut, trying not to think about where Hyungwon was or what he was feeling at this very moment.

Changkyun reached over to squeeze his thigh and the guilt only increased as he realised he should be comforting that kid in his time of pain but was instead throwing his own party of self-hatred.

He missed feeling free. He missed not having to worry this much. He missed just enjoying every moment as it came, listening to the laughter and occasionally contributing to it with his goofy smile and his inability to run in circles.

And, most of all, he missed Hoseok.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everybody had a wonderful Christmas :)

Hyungwon spent roughly twenty minutes squatting in that bathroom stall, hands clamped over his face as he tried to breathe through the panic, before one of the security staff members found him.

He was embarrassed, ashamed of his own weakness, but at the same time relieved beyond belief that he didn’t have to crouch in that cramped and confined space any longer. Another minute in there, just him and his hyperventilating, and he probably would have passed out.

The security guard had taken him by the elbow, a grip that was likely meant to instil a feeling of safety but just felt like a citizens’ arrest, and frogmarched him from the bathroom, keeping a watchful eye out for any fans that happened to still be loitering sinisterly in the background.

Hyungwon had expected – _wanted_ – to be brought straight to his members so Hyunwoo could wrap him in his arms and Minhyuk could crack some joke that would leave him in silent hysterics and help him forget all about the whole horrendous experience, but instead he was bundled into a company car and carted straight off to the hospital.

His wrist had started to bloom in various shades of purple, swelling to twice its size and causing him so much pain that he could barely even twitch his fingers and therefore he was immediately fast tracked to X-Ray the moment he walked through the doors.

It was a terrifying experience: being surrounded by and manoeuvred around by complete strangers when all he wanted was one of his friends by his side just so he could assure himself that they were alright.

He was perched on the edge of an examination couch with his wrist encased in a firm black brace and a pretty spectacular bruise forming at the height of his cheekbone when the door finally opened and the person who stepped through wasn’t a doctor or nurse.

“Are you alright?” Jooheon asked as he crossed the room in two strides and took the matchstick mantis against his chest. “Are you in pain?”

Hyungwon shook his head, eyes downcast in a mixture of shame and anxiousness even when Jooheon bent his knees so that he and his friend were at the same height.

“Are you okay?” he deflected at a mumble. “I saw Changkyun fall.”

“He’s fine,” Jooheon assured him, taking his injured wrist and inspecting the security of the brace with his lips stretched into a thin solemn line. “Bruises and a sore knee but nothing serious. Everyone’s more worried about you. Hyunwoo-hyung almost had a fit when they told him he couldn’t go out and find you. I wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d started throwing punches.”

Now shame wasn’t the only emotion eating away at Hyungwon’s insides. Guilt had made an appearance as well.

Changkyun was worried about him when he should be more concerned with his own injury and Hyunwoo could have put himself at serious risk all because he, Hyungwon, was too fragile to make it through a crowd of teenage girls.

“Hey,” Jooheon called softly, nudging his friend’s chin so that he would raise his head. “Are you sure you’re okay? That was … It was scary out there. We almost got trampled. No one would blame you for being a little freaked out by it all.”

Hyungwon understood that but that didn’t mean he was prepared to admit to his little brother that he’d been truly afraid for his life in those brief but terrifying moments where he’d lain on the floor amidst dozens of stamping boots, trying to protect his head from further trauma.

It was ridiculous. It was over now. He was safe. They were all safe. His wrist may be broken and his face may be bruised but it could have been so much worse. Continuing to obsess over what hadn’t happened was just a waste of time.

“Let’s go home,” he murmured. “I just want to go home. We can go home, right?”

Jooheon still didn’t look convinced, concern etched into every feature of his face as his eyes narrowed slightly. He’d always had some superpower when it came to sensing lies but Hyungwon was thankful when he clearly decided that now was not the moment to call bullshit.

“Yeah,” he nodded, grabbing the boy’s jacket and helping him stuff his bulbous wrist through the sleeve. “Manager-hyung’s waiting for us outside. Our schedules for the next few days have been cancelled.”

Hyungwon didn’t say anything. He kept his mask on, his hood up and his head down all the way home and couldn’t even utter a word when Hyunwoo came rushing to meet him in the hallway with his mother-hen routine already on full blast.

He wanted to be coddled and taken care of but, at the same time, he wanted to be alone. He felt crowded and also isolated, wanting to return the embrace his leader gave him but still feeling the urge to push him away.

Minhyuk put a hand on his shoulder, gently squeezing as though he could sense Hyungwon’s internal struggle, and muttered something about the kid going upstairs to rest. It was the exact excuse he needed to remove himself from the entire situation.

He never told anybody that he’d curled up at the bottom of the shower, still full-clothed with the scalding water battering his already-bruised body, and cried as he remembered that feeling of vulnerability and abandonment.

\----------------

“Hyungwon? Hyungwon, are you with us?”

A sharp rap on the tabletop had Hyungwon spiralling back to reality with a harsh thump as he looked up from the murky brown liquid sloshing about in his coffee mug and saw five worried faces staring back at him.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, picking at one of the straps on his wrist brace.

“As I was saying,” Hyunwoo continued, casting Hyungwon a concerned glance before returning his attention to the conversation. “Manager-hyung says that we can still make the fansigning event in Japan if we leave tomorrow. He’s willing to put in some extra measures to keep us safe and I know it’s a frightening prospect after what we went through yesterday but I feel like we’ve let the fans down enough.”

Hyungwon knew his mind was playing tricks on him but he could have sworn that Hyunwoo’s words were a direct stab at him. At _his_ weakness and _his_ inability to stick with the group and _his_ determination to make such a big deal out of such a tiny injury.

They had let down the fans. They were already behind on filming their reality show and had even needed to cancel two concerts, disappointing thousands of fans because, even though they’d all received full refunds, nothing could compensate for what they’d been looking forward to.

He owed them everything. They deserved so much better. How could he call himself their idol when he was cowering under the blankets like a child scared of the monsters in his closet?

“Hyungwon!”

He actually jumped that time, heart leaping into his mouth as his fight-or-flight instincts prepared to defend himself before his addled mind managed to identify the voice as Kihyun’s.

“Hey, are you okay?” his hyung asked, reaching across the table to take Hyungwon’s uninjured hand. “You keep spacing out.”

“I’m fine,” Hyungwon shot back, still refusing to lift his eyes from the untouched mug of caffeinated liquid in front of him. “I’m just tired.”

“Well, I think we should go,” Changkyun spoke up, breaking the awkward silence that had settled into the air after Hyungwon’s obvious lie. “Hyunwoo-hyung was right when he said that we’ve kept the fans waiting long enough.”

“Will your knee be okay?” Minhyuk cut in.

“Absolutely.”

“Hyungwon?” Hyunwoo asked cautiously, once again drawing all attention to the quietest member of their little circle. “What do you think? We don’t have to go if you don’t want to. Your wellbeing is the most important thing here.”

They were all looking at him. They were all _staring_ at him. Waiting for an answer. Expecting an answer. He felt like the walls were closing in, like he was being crushed beneath the weight of their judgemental gazes.

They said it was his call but how could he say no when they’d all said yes? Then he would be the one holding them back, keeping them from doing what they loved. Then he would be the person who dragged down the entire group because of his own cowardice.

Why was it suddenly so hot in here? Why was it suddenly so difficult to breathe? Why was time moving so slowly? Why were they all still staring at him? Why was he sweating and yet shivering all at the same time?

“I’ll go,” he croaked with a voice that came out raw and strained, and he cleared his throat to try and cover up the crack in his words. “I-I want to go. I’m happy to go.”

“Okay then,” Hyunwoo concluded, nodding slowly even as his eagle-trained eyes loitered on Hyungwon’s shrunken figure. “I’ll call Manager-hyung. We’ll probably leave first thing tomorrow morning so you should probably pack before you go to bed.”

There was an aura of excitement rippling around the table as everybody settled into the comfortable assurance that they would be seeing their beloved Monbebe in just a few hours.

Everybody but one.

Hyungwon excused himself, making some pathetic excuse about wanting to get an early night that nobody really listened to or cared about before he scuttled up the stairs and locked himself in the bathroom.

He braced his hands on either side of the sink and stared at his reflection in the mirror. His eyes were ringed with a dark shade of purple, exposing the distinct lack of sleep he’d managed to get last night, and the bruise on the side of his face was turning an ugly shade of green.

A bit of makeup would cover it up in no time. The fans at the signing event wouldn’t even notice that it was there. It would be like everything that had happened to him in that airport was just erased. Like it didn’t matter. Like it wasn’t important.

It’d feel as if the people he loved more than life itself would be ignoring the fact that he had been scared and hurt and in desperate need of the help that had never come.

And what if something happened? What if they all flocked forwards like they had at the airport? What if security wasn’t able to hold them back? What if they were angry that Hyungwon’s carelessness had led to the cancellation of two sold-out concerts?

What if they hated him? What if they never wanted to see him again? What if he was booed off the stage as they threw food or light sticks or whatever else they’d brought at him? What if they asked Hyunwoo to get rid of him and bring back Hoseok instead?

What if he was skipped because his injured wrist made his signing too slow? What if he was skipped just because they didn’t want to speak to him? What if he didn’t know what to say and just ended up standing there, gaping like a goldfish as he clung to the microphone for dear life in front of dozens of expectant fans?

His lungs felt like they were full of sand, difficult and painful to inflate. He pressed his back up against the wall and slid down until his butt hit the floor, hand clamped over his heart as though he could soothe the thrumming rhythm through his ribcage.

He was disgusted with himself. Changkyun had been hurt, too, and yet he wasn’t having a panic attack at the thought of doing something he’d done a million times before. Full grown men didn’t act like this. Normal people didn’t act like this.

What was wrong with him?

There was a gentle knock on the door and Hyungwon flinched, his hand leaping to his face so he could swat furiously at the tears he hadn’t even realised had been streaming down both cheeks in tumultuous tidal waves.

“Hyungwon?” It was Minhyuk. Why was it always Minhyuk? Why did he have to care so much? “Are you okay? Can you open the door?”

“I’m fine!” Hyungwon called back, almost choking on his own saliva as the words got stuck in his throat. “I’ll be out in a minute!”

He scrambled up off the floor and lunged for the towel rack, plucking a fluffy white blanket from the heated frame and scrubbing his face until it hurt.

His cheeks were red, his hair was messy. It just looked like he’d been in the shower rather than curled up in a ball on the floor with his mouth dragging in great wheezing breaths.

Forcing what he hoped was a believable smile onto his face, he opened the door and met Minhyuk’s eye, standing as tall and straight as he could even though his chest felt like it was splintering into a vortex of bone fragments.

“Sorry,” he said, maybe a little too breathlessly. “It’s free now.”

He tried to slip past and make a beeline for his bedroom but Minhyuk caught his elbow.

And he completely freaked out.

He didn’t know what it was or why it decided to make an appearance at that moment but something happened in his brain. They were best friends, they touched each other like that all the time but never before had such a harmless action prompted such a violent response.

“Get off!” Hyungwon yelped, his tone soaring several octaves in his terror as he stumbled backwards, wrenching his arm from Minhyuk’s grip.

His hyung was staring at him, hand still raised as his mind tried to come to terms with what had just happened and how he should feel about it, and Hyungwon felt both guilt and panic increasing tenfold inside of him.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped, pawing at the fresh tears on his face as he stumbled towards his bedroom. “I’m sorry. I need to pack. I’m sorry.”

He practically threw himself over the threshold, slamming the door behind him and staggering unsteadily towards the silhouette of his bed in the darkness. He miscalculated the distance and his knee hit the mattress before he was ready, sending his body toppling over as he clung to the blankets and used his pillow to muffle his scream.

His house was filled with people he loved and yet he’d never felt more alone.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everybody's having a wonderful holiday!

Their flight took off at an ungodly hour of the morning, so early that the airport was virtually empty when they were escorted through to the VIP lounge and then onto the aircraft itself.

Those who had been around were far too busy sleeping or stressing out about forgetting various things to bother identifying the celebrities who were paraded right in front of them and therefore they made the journey from car to plane without even the slightest hitch going off.

And it was for that reason that Hyungwon was so confused at why he felt like his world was crashing down on top of him.

Every step he took across that polished floor felt like another drumbeat at his funeral march.

He couldn’t draw breath even after he pulled his mask down beneath his chin and he had to resist the urge to drop to his knees and cover his head because he was convinced that, any minute now, he was about to be knocked to the ground and stomped to death.

He fixed his eyes on the floor, following the heels of Jooheon’s shoes ahead of him and trying to focus on something – anything – that would distract him from what felt like his thousandth panic attack since that terrible day in this very same airport.

His wrist was throbbing almost as badly as it had when he’d first sustained the injury and he could have sworn there were fingers scrabbling at his jacket and tangling in his hair and hands determined to push him to the ground so he could be kicked from left to right like a sphere in a pinball machine.

The fear didn’t let up when he took his seat in first class. It didn’t dissipate even when he was in his hotel room, clutching a pillow to his chest and rocking back and forth in the corner of the room with his eyes screwed shut and his throat emitting the most strangled sobbing sounds.

“What’s wrong with me?” he whimpered into the cotton white sack he clung to. “What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with me?”

The others were downstairs right now having breakfast without him. They’d asked him to join them, of course, but he’d denied under the pretence of wanting to unpack and they hadn’t even questioned his actions.

Ever since the incident with Minhyuk, they’d kept their distance. It wasn’t obvious but Hyungwon could feel it. They stared at him when they thought he wasn’t looking, they whispered about him when they thought he wasn’t listening but they’d stopped asking him if he was okay.

It was his own fault. He knew that. But it didn’t make it any easier to accept the fact that they no longer cared about him.

He’d pushed them away just when he needed them more than ever and now they were sitting around a table together, laughing and joking and enjoying themselves because he wasn’t there to bring down the mood.

“Calm down!” he wailed at himself, slamming his fist into the side of his head as though he could knock the sense back into it. “Calm down, you moron! Calm down!”

The pillow was soaked with his tears and his top lip was lathered with snot and he despised the sight of himself but he couldn’t for the life of him bring his heartbeat back to a normal rhythm.

He couldn’t draw a breath that wasn’t hitched and strangled. He could barely draw breath at all.

And then he passed out.

\------------------

He’d done this dozens of times before. He’d done this dozens of times before. He’d done this dozens of times before so why was he so scared?

The fans were slowly making their way down the table, stopping in front of each member and presenting the things they wanted to be signed, and Hyungwon couldn’t breathe.

Kihyun was next to him, passing time by belting out some effortlessly soaring notes into the microphone as he awaited his turn, and Hyungwon couldn’t breathe.

There was no unnecessary noise. There was no sign of overcrowding. Everything was completely calm and passive and harmless and even if it hadn’t been then there were staff members flanking the stage on either side, keeping a watchful eye out for any foul play, and yet Hyungwon still couldn’t breathe.

It wasn’t like it had been the previous day in the hotel room. There were no tears, no great wheezing heaves from a chest that collapsed in on itself as he screwed himself up into a ball and rocked back and forth with his hands fisted in his hair.

This was a different kind of breathlessness. The kind that was completely silent. His ribs were splintering, his lungs were shrivelling, his throat was closing up but he couldn’t make a single sound. Not even a whisper.

And, in a way, that was worse.

He couldn’t call for help. He couldn’t signal a staff member or one of his brothers to tell them how quickly he was spiralling. He couldn’t even get up because it would draw too much attention and now there was a fan in front of him and he couldn’t even open his mouth.

“Hi, Oppa,” she greeted cheerfully, depositing several albums in front of him as he sat there with his pen hovering pathetically in mid-air. “I’m really glad to see you’re okay. I was really worried after I heard what happened at the airport.”

She had to mention the airport.

Just that simple word did things to Hyungwon’s mind that shouldn’t have been done. Alarm bells started blaring inside his head, his body felt like it was being buffeted this way and that, his wrist was screaming in agony beneath its brace and, just for a second, he was back there.

Being trampled as though he was nothing more than a spider people were trying to squash. Being ignored and cast aside as everybody swarmed towards his members, caring only about them while he was writhing on the floor in pain and terror. Being killed by the people he loved.

He was trying to inscribe his signature on the plastic case in front of him but his hand was shaking too badly and it was already difficult enough to hold a pen with his fingers restricted by the orthopaedic brace.

The line was backing up, people were moving on from Kihyun, awaiting their turn with him and yet he couldn’t move and now there was a staff member trying to shuffle this girl along when she hadn’t even got her autograph yet and he couldn’t move and he couldn’t move!

“Hyung?” Changkyun was nudging him with his elbow. He could see the movement but he couldn’t feel it. “Hyung? Hyungwon-hyung? Are you okay?”

So many voices. Shouting. Screaming. Feet coming down on his back, his legs, his hands, making contact with his head and his ribcage and crushing the life out of him without even realising who it was they were trampling over.

It hurt. Everything hurt. Why did it always hurt? Why couldn’t he breathe? Why could he never seem to breathe?”

“Hyung?”

“Oppa?”

“Hyungwon?”

He was shaking. Shaking and gasping and crying in front of all these people. They couldn’t see this. They would film it, post it online, caption the video with messages of love towards him and anger towards those who had done this to him.

He couldn’t be here. He had to move. But he couldn’t.

His lungs were filling up with fluid. He was drowning. Drowning without any water other than the tears that were cascading down his cheeks as he stared obsessively at the album cover that was now sodden with the salt from his eyes.

Move. Now. Move.

Adrenaline reared its ugly head and he was out of his chair before Kihyun’s hand had time to make contact with his shoulder. His foot caught on something – he had no idea what – and he only just managed to catch himself before he could fall flat on his face.

His knees almost gave out when he leapt off the stage, buckling beneath his weight, and it was dark now that he was away from the spotlights. He could barely see but his vision was so fuzzy that he wasn’t sure he would have been able to plot a steady course anyway.

He ran because he didn’t know what else he was supposed to do and it felt like there was laughter echoing in his wake as the crowd erupted into a fit of cackles at his cowardly expense.

He never should have freaked out like that. He never should have gone out there today when he knew he wasn’t ready. He never should have agreed to leave Korea in the first place.

Right, left, right, left. The corridors went on forever but that was okay. The more twists and turns he made, the further he felt from that huge auditorium where every face had been fixed on him as he slowly spiralled into the most intense panic attack he’d ever experienced.

Something went wrong with his foot and he staggered, throwing out an arm to brace himself against the wall and choking out a sob of agony as his splinted wrist made contact with the concrete.

He was about to fall.

He could feel the dizziness building up, his blood pressure sinking as his heartrate soared. His fingers were fuzzy, his head was heavy and the only thing he could think of as his world slowly turned to black was the feeling of those boots crunching his bones.

His body pitched forwards and he braced himself for the impact with the floor but instead of smashing his face straight into the wooden panels, he felt something much softer rushing up to meet him.

He clung to it for dear life, fingers digging into fabric even as his legs gave out and he went down. The obstruction went with him, gigantic tree branch arms locked around his shoulders as they guided him gently to the ground.

Somehow, he ended up on his knees in the middle of that unfamiliar corridor, his hands twisted in the material of his saviour’s hoodie and his face buried in their massive chest.

He should have been embarrassed to collapse into a complete stranger’s arms but the gentle shushing in his ear and the fingers combing the tangles out of his hair were doing something for his heart and his mind and all the other parts of him that felt like they were breaking.

The tears were starting to dry up and his energy was starting to drain as he sagged against this faceless figure who’d saved him from an impromptu and rather violent introduction with the floor.

“Can’t breathe …” he wheezed even as he started coming down from his high. “Need to breathe … Can’t breathe …”

He was so tired. He was so embarrassed. He was so desperately in need of something familiar and safe and warm right beside him but he couldn’t so much as lift his head from its position tucked under this person’s chin.

At least they were warm. And they seemed kind of safe. But they weren’t familiar. Even though they smelt familiar and they felt familiar and their careful shushes sounded familiar but it wasn’t until they spoke that Hyungwon realised just how familiar they really were.

“You’re okay. I promise.”

That was the shock to the system that he needed to kickstart his mind back to reality and he drew back from the embrace even though his muscles were screaming in protest and his eyelids were practically drooping with fatigue, and he stared at the person kneeling in front of him with his mouth hanging open in stunned confusion.

Maybe he was hallucinating. Maybe his brain had been deprived of oxygen for too long and now it was procuring the image of the one thing he knew he wanted more than anything in an attempt to calm him.

But he reached out, groping for purchase, and when he found it, he couldn’t deny his sensory system any longer. This person in front of him was as real as anything.

“Hoseok-hyung?” 


	4. Chapter 4

Hyungwon was still gaping up at the very last person he’d expected to see, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, while Hoseok scanned him up and down as though searching for injuries.

“Can you stand?” he said at last, taking Hyungwon by the elbows as he looked him in the eye, trying to ascertain how stable he was. “It’s okay if you can’t but you’d be much comfier on a chair than on the floor.”

Hyungwon still couldn’t speak. He could only stare, wondering how Hoseok could be here when they weren’t even in Korea anymore. He still hadn’t completely assured himself that he wasn’t hallucinating when his hyung spoke up again.

“Hyungwon?” he asked tentatively when he received no response to his earlier question, bringing a hand up to cup his little brother’s face. “Hyungwon, can you hear me?”

Hyungwon finally managed a nod, a decision he then regretted as his head throbbed and his vision blurred for a moment or two.

“Come on,” Hoseok coaxed, slipping an arm around his waist and lifting him to his feet as easily as if he were a bag of flour. “I can tell how low your blood pressure is just by looking at you.”

Hyungwon allowed himself to be led, still staggering and stumbling as his legs struggled to regain feeling, through a side door and into a room that was relatively similar to the one they’d waited in before the fan sign had begun.

It was empty, a factor Hyungwon was grateful for since his face was still ugly and swollen, and he flopped onto the couch Hoseok steered him towards as though all his bones had just disappeared.

“Just sit tight for a bit,” he heard his hyung say from somewhere in front of him. “I need to text Hyunwoo and let him know that you’re safe.”

Hyungwon barely heard him. His mind was reeling, his muscles were exhausted and his limbs were still trembling slightly in the wake of his breakdown.

He groaned, covering his face with his hands as he realised just how bad his timing had been.

He’d bolted off the stage without so much as a bow of apology, abandoning the fans who’d waited so long to see him and leaving his fellow members to deal with the fallout.

His manager would be furious. His friends would be worried. They would probably have to cancel the event and refund everybody in the process.

Not only had he caused a scene when their group was already making headlines but he had also cost the company a lot of money with the stunt he’d just pulled.

He could potentially lose his job over this. He knew now Starship wasn’t above that kind of behaviour.

“Here,” Hoseok murmured, saving Hyungwon from his internal spiral by crouching in front of him and holding out a glass of water. “Small sips and remember to breathe in between.”

Hyungwon obeyed, salvaging his parched throat with short bursts of cool, refreshing moisture after he’d practically suffocated himself on all the air he’d been dragging into his protesting lungs.

The whole time he was drinking, Hoseok didn’t look away, watching his baby brother slowly returning to reality, and it wasn’t until Hyungwon had finished the glass that he finally felt able to speak but, even then, his voice still sounded hoarse and croaky.

“How are you here?”

The faint smile on Hoseok’s face faded and what was left of it turned sad as though he was being reminded of something that had once brought him so much joy before it had been ripped from his grasp forever.

Hyungwon had a feeling he knew what that something was and knowing he couldn’t give it back broke his heart.

“I read about what happened to you at the airport,” Hoseok explained, shifting himself onto the sofa beside his dongsaeng. “I wanted to make sure you were all okay so I called Hyunwoo and he told me that you’ve been … struggling.”

Hyungwon looked down at the empty glass he was slowly rotating in his hands, ashamed of himself since Hoseok was the one who had been going through hell and yet he was also the one doing the comforting when it should have been the other way around.

“I’ve been in Japan for about a week now,” his hyung continued, either oblivious to Hyungwon’s silent struggle or choosing to ignore it. “I needed to get out of Korea for a bit anyway but, since I was here already, Hyunwoo said I should stop by to see you. He didn’t say anything specifically but I could tell he was asking for help.”

Hyungwon closed his eyes as a fresh wave of guilt washed over him.

He knew Hyunwoo hadn’t been doing well. He was quiet, even more so than usual, and the amount of weight he’d lost in such a short space of time was nothing short of petrifying, and Hyungwon hadn’t made a single move to help him.

“I was planning on hanging around in the waiting room until the fan sign was over but then I heard about your little escapade and I figured I should probably try and find you before somebody else did.”

“I’m sorry,” Hyungwon whispered, hanging his head.

He supposed he should have predicted the appearance of Hoseok’s hand on his thigh and the stern yet still gentle scolding that followed.

“You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for,” his best friend stated firmly even as Hyungwon continued to stare resolutely at the carpet. “There’s something going on inside your head that’s freaking you out and that doesn’t make you weak, Hyungwon. That makes you fucking human.”

He was crying again. Why was he always crying? Why couldn’t he just pull himself together and stop embarrassing his group and his company?

“Hey,” Hoseok protested gently, reaching up to thumb a tear from Hyungwon’s cheek. “What’s going on with you? Did something else happen that the others don’t know about?”

“No.”

And it was the truth. That was what made this whole mess so much worse. Nothing had happened to him that hadn’t happened to the others, too, but he was the only one causing such a fuss.

“Then talk to me,” Hoseok pleaded. “What’s causing all this?”

“I don’t know,” Hyungwon whimpered, clutching the glass in his hand so tightly that his wrist started to throb dully beneath the brace. “I don’t know, hyung. I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me or why I can’t just seem to function like a human being or why I’m the only one that’s like this when we were all there at the airport that day.”

He paused to suck in a breath and Hoseok gave his thigh a strong squeeze, silently letting him know that he was being listened to and therefore it was safe to continue.

“I can’t sleep,” Hyungwon whispered hoarsely. “I can’t eat. Sometimes I can’t even fucking breathe. I see a crowd of people and I completely freak out. I hear someone shouting my name and I flinch. Minhyuk-hyung touched my wrist – that’s all he did – and I reacted like he was holding a fucking gun to my head. Hyung, I don’t know what’s happening to me but I feel like I can’t control any of my own emotions anymore and I think I might be losing my mind.”

By the time he’d finished, he was full-on sobbing and trembling so violently that the glass almost slipped from his hand. He felt Hoseok rubbing a hand up and down his back but he couldn’t hear the words that were being fed into his ear.

He could only hear screams. Screams and boots. Boots on his back, legs, head, hands.

“What’s happening to me?” he choked, allowing Hoseok to set the glass aside so they could embrace without worrying about shattering it. “Hyung, what’s happening to me?”

“I think you have PTSD,” Hoseok whispered and Hyungwon drew back at once, staring at him like he’d grown another head.

“The thing that soldiers and rape victims get? No … Hyung, no, I can’t … Nothing happened to me … I’m not traumatised … I can’t be …”

Hoseok took his hands, encasing them in both of his own so he could create a shell of warmth in which they could feel safe. In which they didn’t have to shake and shiver and pick at their own skin in an attempt to feel calm again.

“What you went through,” his hyung said, speaking slowly so he could be sure Hyungwon heard every word. “Was horrible. You were mobbed, knocked to the ground, separated from the others and kicked so hard that your bones broke. None of that happened to the others.”

Hyungwon blinked, trying to process the words being relayed to him when they sounded so foreign and alien and like Hoseok was only coming up with excuses for why his little brother was so goddamn fucked up.

“You don’t need to be have been in a warzone to be traumatised. You just need to have been scared. So scared that your mind didn’t know how to cope and so it shut down to protect itself. Nobody pointed a gun at you, you weren’t in a car wreck but that doesn’t make your trauma any less real than the people who were.”

But it couldn’t be true. It just couldn’t because idols didn’t get PTSD. People like him didn’t get PTSD. It wasn’t possible.

Hoseok was still clutching his hands, staring him straight in the eye as he spoke, “From what I heard, Hyungwon, you were scared. I would actually be worried if you weren’t. And your mind is trying to deny that those things happened to you and so you aren’t processing the memories. You’re literally reliving the same experience over and over again.”

Hyungwon inhaled shakily, wanting to break this eye contact between them but too afraid that the warmth of his hyung’s touch would disappear if he did.

“How …” he croaked. “How do I make it stop?”

Hoseok opened his mouth to respond but before he could, there was the creak of the door opening behind them and Hyungwon whipped around, already on the fullest alert.

Hyunwoo was standing over the threshold, his shoulders heaving with exertion and his face slightly flushed as though he’d been running. But Hyungwon could see the relief in his eyes as he took in the sight of the two people in front of him.

“Are you okay?” he panted, looking as though he wasn’t sure if he could enter or not.

“We’re fine,” Hoseok responded immediately, shooting the person who used to be his leader a reassuring smile. “Can you just wait outside, Hyunwoo? And keep everybody else out?”

Hyunwoo’s brow creased in concern but he nodded nonetheless, slowly backing out of the room and closing the door behind him.

“They’re worried,” Hoseok said, snapping Hyungwon’s attention back to him. “About you. Really worried. I know you think they’ve stopped caring about you but they’ve just been trying to give you space. They want to help you but they don’t know how.”

Hyungwon didn’t either. He wanted to be normal more than he’d ever wanted anything else in his life. He wanted to be able to lift that weight from his friends’ shoulders so they could continue to battle through this industry as six rather than seven.

But he just didn’t know how.

“You need to see someone,” Hoseok said softly, stroking his thumb over the back of Hyungwon’s hand as the younger boy flinched at his words. “Nobody needs to know if that’s what you want but there is nothing to be ashamed of. I can put you in touch with my therapist if you want. She’s really good.”

Hyungwon knew his eyes must be puffy and red but he looked up at his hyung despite how self-conscious he felt, fresh tears oozing down his cheeks.

“You see a therapist?”

Hoseok nodded, “Since I left Starship. I was hurt and angry and I also felt really guilty. I felt like I was shutting down. Couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t function. I wanted to call you guys every single day but I was too scared of getting you in trouble with the company or making things harder than they already were.”

There was a pause as he looked like he was carefully considering the words he was about to say and Hyungwon wondered why he was holding his breath.

“My therapist diagnosed me with PTSD, too.”

He should respond. Hyungwon should respond with something comforting and reassuring but his tongue was frozen to the roof of his mouth and he couldn’t part his lips or even figure out what he would say if he could.

“I was like you,” Hoseok continued, a little breathless as he shared such a personal side of his story. “I didn’t think I could be traumatised when I hadn’t been shot at or something, but she said that losing my job, my reputation and my friends all in one go was about as traumatising as it gets.”

It made sense. It really did.

Hoseok’s world had crumbled into nothingness in a mere matter of days and he’d been cast out onto the street without so much as a compensation cheque. He had nothing. He was completely alone, his face plastered over the internet above the articles that had disclosed the horrors he’d gone through as a child.

And Hyungwon had been shoved to the ground in what could only be described as some kind of riot. He’d thought he was going to die, crushed beneath the weight of the people who he thought would have sold their own kidneys if it meant getting to see him and his group perform. He’d feared for his life.

If those two experiences weren’t going to do some pretty significant damage to their minds then he didn’t know what would.

And Hyungwon didn’t want to be damaged anymore.

“Can …” he stuttered, clearing his throat before continuing. “Can I have her number? The therapist?”

Hoseok smiled. Properly smiled. Hyungwon had missed that smile.

“Absolutely.”

He wrapped his arms around the skinnier body and Hyungwon felt fingers in his hair, an action that had always managed to calm him down no matter how distraught he was.

He’d forgotten just how safe he felt whenever Hoseok hugged him and he hated how Starship had taken that away from not just him but all of them.

“So many people love you,” his hyung was murmuring in his ear as Hyungwon buried his face into one of those broad shoulders and continued to cry quietly. “So many people want to keep you safe and make you happy. I’m always on the other end of the phone and willing to jump on a plane if I need to get to you. Don’t shut people out. Promise me.”

Hyungwon nodded into his big brother’s shirt, clinging to him for dear life as tears of relief continued to drizzle from his eyelashes.

Relief. The best kind of feeling. The feeling that told you everything was going to be okay again.

He’d thought they’d lost Hoseok for good. He’d thought the company had been keeping him away from them, trying to protect what they perceived to be good and pure as far as possible from the evil they had fashioned their own artist into. 

But maybe not. Maybe he was still here. Maybe he was going to stay here for as long as they needed him to. Maybe he was going to help Hyungwon battle these demons inside his head.

Just maybe.

“I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy new year, everyone! Thank you to all those who read this story, thank you to MinYun for requesting something so interesting and please look after yourselves! I love you all xxxx

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos really help with my confidence and motivation so, if you have a spare moment, let me know what you think! Have a great day :)


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